She cursed.

Her husband had used the same curses, and from her lips they seemed strange, unsexed, more deadly.

Like a tigress she fought him; her face no longer resembled a woman's.

The evil of that outlaw life, the wildness and rage, the meaning to kill, was even in such a moment terribly impressed upon Duane.
He heard a cry from outside--a man's cry, hoarse and alarming.
It made him think of loss of time.

This demon of a woman might yet block his plan.
"Let go!" he whispered, and felt his lips stiff.